One Year Home

by Marie Force

  “Why? Because for once you weren’t the one in control of our relationship?”

  I’ve never seen this side of him, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised it’s in there after what Brittany did to him and after everything that’s happened with me. “No, because I put all my faith in you, and you left. You walked away the first time things got really hard.”

  “This isn’t the first time things got really hard for me, Ava. It’s about the sixth or seventh time. It’s been hard for me all along, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “You’re right. It has. And I’d apologize for that except I told you about John and what I was dealing with.”

  “Yes, you told me about him, but you waited until I was in too deep to turn back before you shared with me the full details of exactly what you were dealing with. I thought I could handle it, and for a long time, I did. But what happened in Spain was too much for me, Ava. I’m sorry if that makes me a dick.”

  “It doesn’t make you a dick. It was too much for me, too. What makes you a dick is turning your back on me rather than working with me to get through it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you really, or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”

  “I’m truly sorry for leaving, for being a dick, for all of it. I just needed some time to think, and I couldn’t do that when I was with you.”

  “You can’t think when you’re with me? What does that mean?”

  “I have no perspective when you’re near.” He sighs helplessly. “All I want to do is hold you and kiss you and be with you. I can’t look out for myself when I’m looking out for you.”

  “Eric… You have to believe me when I tell you I married the man I love.”

  “I’m trying to believe you.”

  “What else can Ava do to convince you?” Jessica asks.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Will you please come home and give me the opportunity to show you that I’m exactly where I want to be and married to the man I love?”

  He looks at me, really looks at me for the first time since he arrived, and I see the exact moment when he decides. “Yes, I will.”

  “Excellent.” Jessica smiles widely. “You’ve made fantastic progress today, but the work is just beginning. I want to see you back again next week to check in on where we are. And if anything comes up in the meantime, I want you to call me. Any time, day or night.”

  We make an appointment for next week and leave together, walking down the stairs and out into the bright sunlight, where the deli smells assail my senses.

  He groans. “I’m freaking starving. You want to get something to eat?”

  “Yeah, I really do.” I’m so relieved to be back with him that I’d do anything he wants if it means we get to be together. And for the first time in days, I’m actually a little bit hungry.

  We go into the deli and order sandwiches—turkey for him and chicken salad for me. They’re massive, which makes us laugh.

  “I didn’t realize we were ordering a week’s worth of lunches,” he says when we’re seated at the table with our huge sandwiches, a bag of chips to share, dill pickles and iced tea.

  We both eat like we haven’t eaten in days, which I hardly have. From the look of things, he hasn’t either.

  He comes up for air after devouring the first half of his sandwich. “The smell of this place drives me crazy every time I come here.”

  “Me, too.” I’m glad we’re here together, but the feeling of walking on eggshells, of the fragility of our situation, remains with me.

  Our phones buzz with a text from Jules.

  Hi everyone. I’m sorry you heard what you did online and not from me. I would very much like to see you all before I leave for LA so I can have the chance to talk to you about what’s going on. I would also like Eric, Rob and Camille to meet John. Please come to the Four Seasons, Presidential Suite, at 8 tonight if you can. I know this is asking a lot of you, Eric and Ava, but it would mean so much to me if you could be there.

  Eric scowls as he reads the text. “Can you even believe this? Does she honestly expect us to hang out with him?”

  “I think maybe she does.”

  “Well, I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “You really have to ask?”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that she’s with him?”

  “Why would it?”

  “He’s your ex, Ava.”

  I can’t help but laugh at the way he says that, which he doesn’t appreciate. “Thank you for reminding me of that.”

  “How can you laugh about this?”

  “Because I’m actually happy that he’s found someone amazing like Jules. I want him to be happy again. Doesn’t he deserve that after what he sacrificed for all of us?”

  “Sure, he can have all the happiness he deserves. As long as it’s not with my sister.”

  “Doesn’t it matter to you if she's happy?”

  “Of course it does, but why does she have to be happy with him?”

  “You’re being sort of ridiculous.”

  “So you honestly want to go to this thing tonight and see my sister with your ex? You don’t think that’s in any way weird or bizarre?”

  “It’s life, Eric. Everything about life is weird and bizarre. Look at what’s happened to the two of us. Did we ever picture ourselves on the journey we’ve each been on? Do you think Jules flew to San Diego thinking, ‘Gee, I hope I fall for this guy and make everything super awkward for myself and my brother’? Shit happens. Life happens. Jules is awesome. I don’t think for one second she’d ever do anything to intentionally hurt either of us.”

  He sighs and slumps in his chair. “When did you get so Zen-like about everything?”

  “Around the time my husband left me and gave me a couple of days to think about what it would be like to live without him.”

  “I didn’t leave you.”

  Raising a brow, I eye him skeptically. “What would you call it, then?”

  “I took a break to get my head together.”

  “You left me, Eric. I need to know that’s not going to happen again.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Did you really tell Rob that you think the only reason I married you is because of what Brittany did to you?”

  He glances at me, startled. “Your sister has a big mouth.”

  “Is it true?”

  “I don’t want it to be true.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s it? Just ‘okay’? That’s kind of a big bomb to drop in the middle of a brand-new marriage.”

  “I’m sorry you heard about that. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “Do you really think we can make our marriage work with something like that standing in the middle of it? What else do you not want me to know?”

  “Nothing. That was the only thing.”

  “I heard what you said back there, about loving me enough to let me go if that’s what I really want. You should know that I love you that much, too. If you’ve changed your mind about me, or if it’s all too much for you to handle, you only have to say so. It would break my heart to lose you and to lose us, but I don’t want to keep you prisoner in a marriage you no longer want.”

  He covers my hand with his. “I’m not a prisoner, and I do want this. I lost my mind a little bit when you started having dreams about him. I know that wasn’t your fault, just like it wasn’t my fault that it took me over the edge.”

  “I wouldn’t have liked it if you started dreaming about Brittany.”

  He grimaces dramatically. “That is never going to happen.”

  “Never say never.” I laugh at the disgusted face he makes. “I didn’t think I’d have dreams about John either, and funny enough, I haven’t had one since I told you about them.”

  “Well, that’s good news, I guess.”

  “If we’re going to be in th
is together, we have to stay together. No matter what happens.”

  “I hear you, and I’m sorry I left. I was afraid of making it worse somehow by staying. I won’t do that again. I promise.”

  “You want to go home?”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  We get the rest of our food wrapped to go and head out.

  “It’s so nice out. Let’s walk.” He reaches for my hand the way he always does, and that simple gesture goes a long way toward convincing me that we’re going to be able to put things back together. We take off toward home, walking east to west, through the mob scene that’s Times Square on the way to Tribeca. “You’re really going to make me go to this thing with Jules tonight?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  He groans. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to make me meet this guy.”

  “You’ll survive it. I’ll be right there with you. And remember, it’s not going to be the best day John ever had having to meet you.”

  “I suppose that’s true. Before we go, maybe we can talk about how we’re going to resume our honeymoon, already in progress.”

  “We can do more than talk about that if you’d like.”

  “I’d like. I’d really, really like.”

  My heart feels lighter than it has in days, even if I’m well aware that we're a long way from back to normal. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “I’m going to see John tonight for the second time in six years, and the only thing that truly matters to me in this moment is that you’re coming home. I thought you might like to know that.”

  Dropping my hand, he puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you for telling me. Means a lot to me to know where I stand with you.”

  I stop walking and turn to him. “I love you, Eric, and I can’t imagine life without you by my side. That’s the only reason I married you.”

  Right there on the sidewalk, in front of a hot dog vendor, he kisses me. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Thirty

  JULIANNE

  I’m so nervous about tonight that I’m afraid I might throw up. We’ve ordered bottles of wine and a cheese board from room service that should be here at any moment. Earlier this afternoon, we filmed The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, where John was asked about his relationship with Governor Tilden’s daughter.

  He deflected the question, but it galls me that his tour is being taken over by gossip, so I sent a note to everyone who’s booked him, letting them know he won’t talk about our relationship publicly, so please don’t ask him about it.

  I can make the request. I can’t make them adhere to it, and that only adds to the boiling cauldron of stress in my belly.

  John comes up behind me, puts his hands on my shoulders and kisses the side of my neck. “You’re wound so tight, you’re about to snap.”

  I love that he notices, that he pays attention, that he sees me so clearly. I love everything about him, even when he gets grumpy about his physical limitations, which seem to be getting fewer by the day. I love him when he has nightmares and other obvious signs of the trauma he’s endured. I love him enough to invite my siblings and their significant others into this suite that’s begun to feel like home to us, even knowing they may not approve of the things I want to tell them.

  I hope if they see us together, they may begin to understand.

  But my stomach is still not happy.

  “What can I do for you?” he asks.

  “Fast-forward the clock to midnight when they’ve been and gone and we’re alone again?”

  His low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “I’d do it if I could.”

  I turn to face him. “Are you nervous about seeing Ava?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m far more nervous about meeting Eric.”

  “You’ll like him. Everyone does.”

  “He probably hates me.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He knows nothing that happened was intentional on your part.”

  “Some of it was. The stuff I kept from Ava was definitely my doing.”

  “You’ve apologized to her for that. It’s time for everyone to build a bridge and get over it.”

  I love making him smile. I love the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and the right side of his face creases with a deep groove. “You look nice, and you smell fantastic.”

  “This is okay?” he asks of the well-worn jeans and untucked plaid dress shirt he’s wearing.

  “It’s perfect. The Tildens are a casual sort of family when we’re not being trotted out on some political stage.”

  “Ah, yes, your father the governor. When can I meet him?”

  “Soon.” I flatten my hands on his chest. “Thank you for doing this tonight. I know it’s a lot to ask of you to see Ava and Eric and to meet my other brother.”

  “They’re important to you, Poppy. I’m happy to do it.”

  “Even if it’s hella awkward?”

  He kisses me. “Even if.”

  I’m glad he’s so chill about what feels like a huge deal to me.

  “Let’s get some air before they arrive.” Taking my hand, he leads me to the terrace, where we make ourselves comfortable on one of the lounges. He wraps his arms around me while I use his chest as a pillow. The strong beat of his heart under my ear is incredibly reassuring for some reason. “How’re you feeling about everything that happened earlier?”

  “You mean the part where I quit my job?”

  “And got a new one. Don’t forget that.”

  “I’m feeling a little shell-shocked, to be honest.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, if one of my friends was doing what I am, I’d be organizing an intervention.”

  “Why?”

  “Um, because I’ve chucked my whole life for a guy I met three weeks ago, who until very recently was mourning the loss of the woman who is now married to my brother.”

  He doesn’t say anything for several minutes while he rubs my back in small, soothing circles. “You know what I’ve come to realize?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m always going to mourn what I lost with Ava. We had a beautiful thing that was taken from us by the same terrorist who killed all those innocent people on the cruise ship. It didn’t end because we stopped loving each other, so I suppose it’s only natural to grieve the loss of something so special. But I’ve also realized that even as I mourn the loss of what I had with her, I can still be happy with you. The two things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

  “That’s very profound.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about these things when I could barely do anything more than sit on my ass day after day.”

  “You’re getting stronger all the time.”

  “I feel better in every way since you showed up and called me on my bullshit and snapped me out of the funk that was threatening to consume me. You were like a badly needed breath of fresh air with the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen.”

  I sputter with laughter even as my heart swoons from the things he said. This is why I’m chucking my whole life for a guy I just met. If I could bottle the feeling I have when I’m close to him this way, I could sell it for millions. “My legs are sexy?” I hitch one of them over his lap.

  He reaches down to slide a hand from my thigh to my calf. “Oh yeah. Sexiest fucking legs I’ve ever seen, hands down.”

  I squirm as his hand travels up. “Stop.” I catch it as he reaches the top of my leg. “We don’t have time.”

  “I could be so quick.”

  “No!”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “I’ve proven otherwise on numerous occasions, and I will again later if you behave in front of my family.”

  “You strike a hard bargain, Poppy.” He presses his erection against my side. “But I’ll do my best to behave.”

  I crack up laughing and burrow deeper into his warm embrace. This, right here, is why I’m going all in with this gu
y. I’ve never experienced anything more perfect than this. If I’m wrong about him and this, then I never want to be right about anything again.

  The doorbell ringing drags me back to reality. “That’ll be room service with the stuff we ordered.”

  “You’d better get it. I’m a little… worked up here.”

  I glance down at the prominent bulge in his pants.

  He scowls fiercely. “That’s not helping anything.”

  Covering my mouth, I suppress a giggle as I leave the terrace to answer the door.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I open the door to the uniformed room service waiter. He wheels in a cart with the bottles of wine, beer and refreshments that I ordered. He sets everything up for us on the bar, and I sign the check. “Have a nice evening.”

  “Thank you.”

  The security personnel have been provided with a list of the guests we invited, so there’s nothing left to do now but wait another half hour until they hopefully arrive. What’ll I do if they don’t come? None of them replied to the text, so I’m left to wonder if they’ll blow me off. They wouldn’t do that, would they?

  In this case, I honestly don’t know, and the not knowing is making me nuts. John is on with Victor Carlin at eight in the morning. Part of me wants to cancel now that I no longer work for Marcie, but it’s too late to back out now. And besides, John doesn’t want to back out. He’s a fan of Carlin’s show and is eager to meet him. Ugh. So he’s not completely perfect.

  “Why are you stressed again?” He takes a seat at the bar and leans in to grab one of the beers.

  I hand him the bottle opener. “I’m thinking about you being on Victor Carlin in the morning.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  I cringe. “I liked you better when I didn’t know you’re into him.”

  His smile is devastating. I can’t get enough of it, even if it’s because of that man-child Carlin. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I love his show.”

  “So you’ve mentioned. I don’t need to know that under your sophisticated naval officer veneer, you’re actually an eighth-grade boy.”